


Question--

by writingandchocolatemilk



Series: Bad Touch Trio Stories [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Bad Touch Trio, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 22:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5308916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <strong>Alright, well, what's the strongest memory you relate to smiles? The warmest memory you have?</strong>
</p><p>Uh… Huh. It's kind of long. That fine?</p><p>  <strong>As long as you need.</strong></p><p>Okay. So, me and my—my, uh—me and—Antonio and Francis. They're—they're assholes.</p><p>It was in college, yeah? God, I think it was—six months into college—first semester, anyways. So, we look like we're twelve, of course. My… friend Antonio made these fuckin' fake IDs so we figured, 'Pft, let's go use them.' We go to the shittiest—the, the <em>shiftiest </em>dive bar you can possible imagine. Just, it's, it's a mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Question--

**Author's Note:**

  * For [girlofthearts](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=girlofthearts).



> **Anonymous said:** The BFT (as a pairing? yes?) and the most beautiful smile they ever saw?
> 
>  
> 
> **:V**

**What's the most beautiful smile you've ever seen?**

That's—that's kind of a stupid question. Uh, I don't—I don't have a memory relating to beautiful—what?

**Alright, well, what's the strongest memory you relate to smiles? The warmest memory you have?**

Uh… Huh. It's kind of long. That fine?

**As long as you need.**

Okay. So, me and my—my, uh—me and—Antonio and Francis. They're—they're assholes.

It was in college, yeah? God, I think it was—six months into college—first semester, anyways. So, we look like we're twelve, of course. My… friend Antonio made these fuckin' fake IDs so we figured, 'Pft, let's go use them.' We go to the shittiest—the, the  _shiftiest_ dive bar you can possible imagine. Just, it's, it's a mess.

So, we're standing in line, and me and Francis finally look at these IDs that Antonio had gotten us. And you know what it fuckin' said? My name was "Hans Burgermiester." So that just lets you know—professional as shit, man. It was all—all holographic and shit, full state ID. But. It was Burgermiester and Francis' last name was "Hohon." Stereotypical French laugh… as his last name.

So we get up to—to this fuckin'  _huge_  guy—the bouncer. He works out—too much. Way too much. We hand him our IDs and I'm just  _praying_  that he's not going to look at these and deck us in the face.

Antonio hands him his card, and asshole's—you know, fucking fine with it. Goes right in, fine with it. Walks into the bar; not a problem.

Francis—cool as a breeze—hands him his ID, gets in—of course, Hohon gets in.

I'm—I am pissing myself. I hand—I hand him my card, and I'm—I'm actin' like I'm big shit, but I'm like, "He's gonna deck me in the face!"

Burgermiester, me, gets in.

We get into this place, and it's—it's, it's. Mm. To say it was full of the dirtiest scumbags in the city is an understatement. You know, big guys, big beards, it smells like sweat, far as the eye can see—nose can smell.

We go to the bar, and Antonio and Francis try to order their drinks, you know, they give this big, long, complicate order. It's like, "Margarita, salt, vinegar, shaken, not stirred," however it is.

The bartender gives them this  _look_ , he's like, "What the fuck." So he pulls out these three lukewarm beers—and I love lukewarm beers, so I'm fine with it—God, and Antonio and Francis give each other this look, "What the  _fuck_?!" It was—the  _funniest_  shit. It was just about the funniest shit I've ever seen.

So, in this bar, right, so, we're sitting there, we had a couple of drinks, right? And this guy was giving us this  _look_. You know, he's makin' eyes at us, and he's talking to his buddies, hittin' them in the shoulder, pointing at us.

I did not come to this bar for this nonsense. I get up, and I walk over, and I'm like, "What the fuck, bro? What is your issue?"

And he's like, "I didn't come here to see a bunch of—"

And I just didn't listen after that, I just punched him right in the face. So, I punched him right in the face, and of course all his buddies hop up. I'm surrounded by like, three guys, and I'm like, "I'm fucked! I'm going to die! This is how I'm going down—swinging!"

I jump at the nearest one, and I turn around, and those two assholes—I barely know them. I've literally known them for—for a couple of months. In a couple of classes—I think we were in… art history together, something stupid.

I turn around and—I—we hadn't known each other, this was sort of our first hangout—and I turn around and instead of running—instead of running and getting away from this fight, Antonio and Francis are up there, and they're by my side!

I'm—and I'm feeling much more confident! I'm feelin'  _way_  better with, uh, two people by my side. So I turn around back to these assholes and—we start fighting.

It was, uh, it was not a good fight. We were skinny college kids who basically lived off Ramen Noodles—before I built up my mass, obviously. We were skinny, you know, skinny kids. Before we had gotten down—we were mainly doing homework. You know, before we were working our—working on our physique.

We start fighting. Getting our—I throw a punch, this guy dodges under it, slams me in the stomach. You know, I'm trying not to curl up and cry. It's uh, it's a mess.

I think we held our own, though. I think we had to break some bottles and kind of fend them off that way, but we held them off for a good long while.

Cops got called. Which is, uh, which is never a good thing. [Laughs]

Cops got called. And, I mean, those fucking bitches were—they were out of there. Gone. So it was—Francis, Antonio, and I. The cops take one look at us and are like, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

By this point, of course, we had tumbled outside. We had been kicked out, but the fight had continued outside. So, they haul us back in this cruiser, and we're blitzed off our asses. We are—we are definitely not twenty-one, we do not  _look_  twenty-one, we are  _not_  twenty-one. Burgermiester and Hohon are not twenty-one year olds.

We get hauled into the station, and I feel like fucking shit—because these poor assholes are probably going to get something on their permanent record—some—something awful like that. It's all my fault!

So, I'm sitting there—and I have, I have two black eyes, I'm a mess—a mess. I'm layin' there and covering my eyes. I'm thinking, "These two must think I'm a complete asshole, I just can't keep my mouth shut," stuff like that.

I look up at them, and these two—these two fuckers look like their faces have been dragged across asphalt—they look like a mess. Missing teeth and stuff. These—these two give—they give me the—the  _biggest_  smile you could imagine that two drunk assholes who had been beaten in a fight could give you.

I was—I was just… Um. It—uh. It was just—yeah. Yeah.

**Why did you pick this memory?**

Uh. Well, what do you mean?

**Well, why did you relate this to a beautiful smile?**

Oh, it wasn't—it definitely wasn't a fuckin' beau—they had a bunch of blood on their teeth!

Well, I guess… My—my brother and I are close but he—he more has to be, he's my brother!

But it was the first time… I guess… That… That I felt like, people had my back. It was the first time I got into a fight and I turned around and there were two other—idiots! Two—two other people  _there_. Who were there to… have my back. To get hauled into jail—not the first time I've been hauled into jail, but first time I've been hauled into jail with people.

I guess… I dunno'. That kind of just… started things, I guess.

**Started what things?**

Uh. Well… a friendship. We got an apartment together, we share the rent—kind of, kind of solidified things. We all sort of stood for the same thing. The first time I knew that we  _could_  be friends. That they… under… stood me. Basic—well, that they… could understand why I would start a fight like that. Or, well, that I wasn't just starting a fight to be an asshole, that I was starting a fight because these other assholes were assholes.

I think it was the first time I realized they could understand that. And I think that was a lot of what… we're kind of, going off on.

So, I mean, when I think of "smile," not a beautiful smile, but a smile that—that fuckin' means something… I… That's the one—and you know, a dirty, grey concrete cell, next door is a—is Bruiser who's in for beating his wife, and stuff like that. Handcuffed. Buzzed 'til the morning. Called our parents—we called our parents for bail—father was furious.

But I think—but I think—yeah. Those smiles. You don't know how good a smile is after a fight until you see—yeah.

Are we good?


End file.
